


New Friend

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Children, Dragon Hoard, Dragon Senju Tobirama, Dragons, Fledglings, M/M, MadaTobi Week 2019, Phoenix Uchiha, Phoenix Uchiha Madara, Phoenixes, Pre-Relationship, Protectiveness, Unusual Dragon Hoard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-11 18:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20157919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: When word reaches the Phoenix King of his fledges having a new imaginary friend out in the meadow where they practise and play, he goes to investigate, as is his duty. He was anything but prepared to find the dragon they spoke of isreal.





	New Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [MadaTobi Week](https://madatobiweek.tumblr.com/post/182718063236), Day 7: Fantasy and Creatures

“Of course, it’s a cute little game.”

“Harmless imagination.”

“Haruna has always been a little. . .”

A delicate pause of the type Madara knew all too well, and then a tsking sound from several tongues. He leaned out around the doorframe, finding the mothers of several of his young clan members gathered outside, slowly collecting their children.

Or so they were in theory; most of the older children were still playing, though one toddler dozed in his mother’s arms as the women chatted.

“Harmless game?” Madara questioned, because he had heard a few bits and pieces from the children’s talk himself, but not enough to put anything together.

The women exchanged looks, a few of them drifting away and a few lingering to speak with Madara, sharing with him things that they had overheard or been told by their children about a ‘friend’ they had been playing with. Madara’s brows rose as he listened.

Information shared, the rest left soon enough, collecting their children or shooing on others to be walked back to their own parents. All save one.

“Ah, Mada-shishou?” Kagami said shyly as he stopped a few paces away and Madara beckoned him in.

Madara smiled at him. “Your mother will be back around dinner time, until then you’re going to stay with me.” he assured, resting a hand on Kagami’s curls. “Come inside?”

“Thank you, Mada-shishou!” Kagami said happily, happily trotting in at Madara’s side.

“Would you help me with something?” Madara asked, and Kagami enthusiastically - as he had known Kagami would - agreed to do so immediately. Madara smiled at him again and pulled down the box of battered kunai that needed sorting - some of them would be fine with sharpening and new wrappings, some would need to be reforged. The sorting was a simple enough task, though Madara might need to recheck Kagami’s work later.

“I heard that you and the others might have made an interesting new friend out in the fields where you play?” Madara began leadingly once they had been sorting for a few minutes. “Is that so?”

“. . .yes.” Kagami squirmed. “He’s really nice, Mada-shishou! He watches over us when we play and he teaches us things and sometimes he plays with us!”

“Oh?” Madara raised an eyebrow, waiting. “What is this friend like?” Of course he had the few things he had overheard from the chattering children, and more shared by their mothers, but he wondered what Kagami might tell him - and Kagami very well might offer rather more, he thought. Once invited, at least.

Madara listened as Kagami excitedly bounced where he sat - distracted from his task, not that Madara minded - and told Madara about the shining dragon they had woken whilst playing spark-tag in the early spring, when it was still almost chill. How he had emerged from beneath the earth and swept eyes like embers over them all, and some of them had been frightened, but Kagami had introduced himself - Madara sighed; polite, perhaps, but offering one’s name to any newly-met creature was unwise; he made a note to give Kagami more lessons - and the dragon had bowed in return and watched them for a time.

The dragon had safeguarded their play - they should be safe in that meadow, Madara knew; it was the only reason they were allowed to venture there alone to play - and taught them a few new games, and some other things.

And once _something_ had come out of the river - Kagami didn’t know what it was, but in his words it sounded alarmingly like an Umibouzu, which should be _impossible_, they dwelled solely in the sea - and the dragon had interposed himself and killed the creature, which sank back into the water, before it could touch the children.

The entire incident was alarming, and brought up a good many questions.

“What kinds of things has he taught you?” Madara asked as he guided Kagami outside to help him gather a few things for dinner. He pointed the boy towards the chickens and went to pick herbs himself.

“Oh! Oh! Can I show you, Mada-shishou?” Kagami asked, nearly trembling with excitement, his hands full of eggs. Madara raised an eyebrow, but smiled and nodded.

“Let’s take these to the kitchen, and then-”

“We should definitely be outside.” Kagami said seriously, and Madara eyed him, but nodded assent. They quickly put the new ingredients for dinner alongside the vegetables Madara had already laid out, then returned outside - though away from the chicken coop and both herb and decorative gardens. “Watch this, Mada-shishou!”

Madara watched indulgently, only to startle, stiffening, when Kagami leapt into the air, shaping an unfamiliar design with both hands before him, then caught in the air as a swirl of fire spilled from his lips and spiralled around him down to the ground. Madara’s eyes were wide, his heart beating faster.

Kagami drifted back to the earth, the fire sweeping outwards from him at its centre and then dying away easily.

It was _not_ an Uchiha spell, it was, in fact, an elemental spell like nothing Madara had ever seen. A _flame_ spell like nothing Madara had ever seen, in hundreds of years.

It was _not_ something Kagami could have created somehow on his own, nor something anyone within the Uchiha could have taught him. Madara had already had his doubts as to the _imaginary_ nature of the children’s friend, but this cemented them.

Madara praised the spell, for it _had_ been impressive, and shooed Kagami inside to help him make dinner. Once they settled down and before Kagami’s mother returned, Madara asked Kagami _why_ he hadn’t reported the creature that had attacked the children - why none of them had.

Kagami looked confused, repeating his story about the dragon dealing with the creature.

Madara pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s important we know about such things, even if they are no longer a threat, Kagami.” he said firmly. “What if there were more? What if it was a sign of something?”

Kagami still looked uncertain, but he duly promised that if anything _else_ attacked he would tell Madara straight away. The thought made Madara’s stomach knot.

It _shouldn’t_ be a _possibility_ \- that was _why_ the fledges were allowed to wander off to ‘their’ little meadow at all.

Kagami’s mother appeared to collect him, only a little later than expected - negligible - and while she wouldn’t stay to eat, Madara sent dinner for her home with them, pointing out that Kagami had already eaten. Standing on the engawa to see them off, Madara reviewed his plans for the next day and determined in light of the new priority, things could be rearranged.

He needed to check on the meadow where the fledges went to play and stretch their little wings . . . if mostly figuratively. If there _was_ a creature there, watching over them - Madara was certain there was, though he doubted it was truly a dragon; dragons were powerful and legendarily solitary, often aggressive, and jealously guarded their dens, their territory, and all that they hoarded - Madara needed at the least to see it. To see what it truly was and to be sure it would not harm the children.

Madara shook his head, sighing, nerves frayed from Kagami’s tales.

It was beyond easy for Madara to follow after the children as they happily made their way to ‘their’ meadow, well within the safely-defined area guarded by the Uchiha - far within their borders and not far from the walls of the compound where most of them made their homes. He flew, keeping easily out of sight of the children, and circled the meadow as they spilled into it, extending his senses.

“Dragon-sensei! Dragon-sensei!”

Madara was a little amused, watching several of the fledges run about, calling, and could see why even someone _watching_ them would assume it was a game, an imaginary creature. He still had good reason to think there was something more than childish fancy, however, and he waited for whatever this supposed friend of his fledges was to appear.

Then a silvery-pale, scaled muzzle slipped out of a gap between two trees growing almost into the side of the rocky slope at one end of the meadow, and Madara nearly dropped out of the sky. That was a dragon, an _actual, true dragon_, slipping his sinuous body out of a cave den _right there in the meadow_, dwarfing the fledges and-

Madara’s heart burned and he caught himself on suddenly-searing wings only to twist and dive, driven mostly by pure instinct.

“Hello, little fledges.” the dragon greeted, his tone warm, tilting his head as a pair of them trotted up and almost leapt on his great head. Madara pulled up from his dive before the dragon, shrieking a warming as flame bloomed around him.

“Oh! Mada-shishou!” Kagami cried. “. . .did you come to play too, today?” he asked, sounding delighted at the thought.

Madara struggled to rein in the panicky flutter of his heart as the dragon tilted his head and watched Madara in return. Madara dropped from the air to land on booted human feet, spreading the wings he hadn’t let go as he shifted shape and barely resisting the urge to mantle protectively over the nearest fledges.

“I came,” Madara said, when he had managed to strangle his voice back to something at least halfway approaching normal volume, “to meet your new friend.”

“Dragon-sensei isn’t new, Mada-sama!” Airi said brightly, ducking under his wing and rushing up to his side, clinging to his pants.

“Yes, he’s been here for _ages_!”

Madara brought a hand up to his brow, taking a few deep breaths.

“What do you want with my fledges?” Madara demanded, meeting the dragon’s eyes - they were indeed ember-bright as Kagami had described in passing, ruby red with slit pupils - and spreading his wings wider in warning, shielding the fledges as they piped up with questions or excited calls. “I _won’t_ let you hurt them.”

The dragon lifted his head away suddenly, silvery horns glinting in the sun and throwing back reflected red from Madara’s flaming wings. It was only a shade brighter than the stark red that striped across the dragon’s cheeks and muzzle, and edged his silvery and icy blue scales in places.

“I mean them no harm.” the dragon said with a growl, lip curling to bare his fangs.

Madara moved instinctively, blocking the fledges, visions of tiny fiery fluff and feathers crunched between those long fangs playing in his mind and making him sick.

“You must be Uchiha Madara . . . the Phoenix King.” the dragon said, and Madara’s feathers prickled. “They are _my_ fledges . . . also.” he said slowly, and Madara tensed. “They came to me and I gathered them.” He spread his wings just a little, tilting his head to sweep a look over the fledges tucked under one of Madara’s wings, and his expression . . . softened, if that scaly face could be said to do such a thing. “Hoarded them. I have always enjoyed watching over little ones. Whether they can stay with me or no.”

A spark of slightly mad understanding lit in Madara’s mind and his eyes widened as his wings lowered slightly. “You . . . allow them to return home,” he emphasised it slightly, not to be cruel but to make his point, “without protest. . .”

“I am quite old enough,” the dragon said with a sigh, “to know how to keep creatures that are sentient in their own right.”

Madara swallowed. This had to be the very strangest dragon he had ever met or indeed heard of.

“Mada-shishou!” Kagami nudged up against his hip and Madara put a hand down to his fluffy hair, petting it lightly and then shifting to grip his shoulder.

“Mada-shishou?” the dragon repeated delicately, and Madara snorted as he twisted and scooped Kagami up, startling him. Madara clucked chidingly and straightened his hair, looking up at the dragon.

“I am Kagami’s Mada-shishou, yes,” his lips quirked, “yes, I am Uchiha Madara.” he dipped his head slightly, though he still held his wings wide. He also mentally apologised for judging Kagami introducing himself so easily. Perhaps the fledge did need a refresher course, but it was . . . a _dragon_ was something rather different.

Although more difficult still to avoid, when Madara was known widely for who and what he was. He could refuse to _offer_ his name, but were it known already. . .

“You may call me Tobirama, if you wish.” the dragon said, tilting his head the other direction. “. . .will you take them away?” he asked quietly.

Madara’s arms tightened around Kagami and his wings slanted lower over the fledges.

“Would I have to fight you for them if I did?” Madara asked, jaw set. He ignored the small cries from fledges suddenly realising there was a chance they might be taken home, some of them likely guessing if they were there would be no more Dragon-sensei, and no more unsupervised trips to the meadow.

Tobirama’s head reared up at the question, and he backed up a step, wings tucking closer to his body. “I would not risk them. They . . . _are_ your flock. I- I would. . .”

“Mada-shishou. . .” Kagami said quietly, tugging at Madara’s shirt, though he didn’t fight or try to get down from Madara’s arms.

“I won’t take them away.” Madara said, stomach twisting. “Not if they’re safe. But _I_ need to be sure they’re safe.” He shook his head. “And not only because of you, Tobirama-sama.”

Tobirama angled a look at him, head still raised high - though not in a threat position.

“When was the water monster, fledges?” Madara asked, glancing back towards the river.

“A month ago!”

“It tried to eat Airi-chan but Dragon-sensei killed it and it went away!”

“It was fine, Mada-sama!”

Madara hid his face against Kagami’s hair for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to steady his racing, clenching heart. It tried to kill at least one of his fledges and he had never even known about it but _it was fine Mada-sama_ sometimes he thought fledges would finally be the ending death of him, Burning Day or no.

“You didn’t know.” Tobirama said slowly, his voice much closer.

Madara lifted his head and was not too thrown to see a large draconic eye very near his face. “Not until last night.”

Tobirama shifted a little, settling lower on the ground. Madara eyed him, then hugged Kagami tighter. “Fledges, why don’t you go and play? I think I need to talk to,” he paused, lips twitching, “your Dragon-sensei for a bit.”

He folded his wings, though he didn’t let them fade away to take a more wholly human shape. “If you don’t mind, Tobirama-sama?”

“Certainly,” Tobirama tilted his head, “Madara-sama.”

“Mada-sama, can we go play by the river?”

Madara stiffened.

“It’s safe.” Tobirama said quietly. He tipped his muzzle up and breathed, a cloud of spiralling mist pouring from between his fangs, then floating towards the water and settling across its surface.

Madara took a breath, then kissed Kagami’s brow, ruffled Airi’s hair, and allowed the flock of fledges to go play by the water, though he kept an eye on them as they went.

“You love them.”

Madara turned, startled. “They’re my fledges.” he said without thinking.

Tobirama made a rumbling noise as he settled to the earth, tilting his head invitingly. Madara leapt lightly up and perched on a boulder nearby, sitting cross-legged and meeting Tobirama’s eyes squarely. He showed his fangs again, but this time Madara suspected it was a smile.

* * *

Madara cursed in low mutters as he fought the downpour to get into the air, the rain drenching him to the skin in moments - though not the oiled, spelled bag he carried, which was more important. He hurried to gain speed, focusing on his goal in the grey blur the world had become in the late summer storm.

There had been no signs of rain this morning; if there _had_, he never would have allowed the fledges to go to their meadow today.

Even with the heavy rain pounding down upon and around him Madara covered the distance swiftly - it was close, only far enough to be a small adventure for the little ones to travel on their own.

. . .they weren’t there.

No one else had gone to fetch the fledges, and they had _definitely_ gone out this morning - had they tried to return home on their own and gotten caught in the rain, lost along the way, cold and wet and perhaps even wandering off and further away from home? Madara circled, steaming slightly as he grew more anxious, then dove for the meadow.

A shape in the grey of the constant rain shifted and Madara angled towards it, realising just as he was about to run into it that it was Tobirama.

“Tobirama!” Madara called, shouting to make himself heard over the downpour.

Tobirama raised his head, his bright eyes and the washed-out but still noticeable streaks of red on his face standing out even in the rain, the only warning Madara had as to where he was. Madara landed in a solid squelch, shivering, and opened his mouth to call out a question, but-

The fledges were huddled under huge silvery dragon wings, pressed close against Tobirama’s sides and up under his belly. Madara’s heart leapt. “Oh thank kami. Tobirama. You have them.” They were flicking raindrops at each other and giggling, but looked almost completely dry and content. _Safe._

“Of course I do.” Tobirama said, wings shifting a little. “They’re safe. They’re too little to be out in this.” He paused, lowering his head. “Madara. Madara you’re soaked and shaking.”

“I’m fine.” Madara said, but his words hitched as a particularly hard shudder ran through him. “I was just worried about the fledges. They’re so little.” he said, tripping over the words a little.

“Madara, come here.” Tobirama said, head dipping and muzzle gently sliding along one of his wings to rest at the back of his shoulder, tugging him closer. “It’s not good for big phoenices to be so wet and cold either. And you’re hardly dressed for the weather, is this an indoor yukata? What’s in the bag?”

Madara shivered again. “The fledges. . .”

Tobirama huffed and pulled Madara in. “Come along, down with the fledges for you too.” he urged. “Little ones, help Mada-sama get cosy and dry, won’t you?”

“Yes Dragon-sensei!”

“Mada-shishou! You’re all wet! And your hair- your _wings_!” Kagami cried, sounding distressed, and Madara quickly bent to slip under the shelter of Tobirama’s wing, looking for his little favourite.

Kagami launched himself at Madara, thumping him backwards against Tobirama’s side on impact, and Madara stiffened, then shivered. Tobirama might be a water dragon, not a creature of fire as they were, but he was _so warm_. And the earth beneath him and his spread wings was dry, despite the deluge all around them.

“Mada-shishou! I can’t reach!” Kagami said, jumping and tugging at the fabric of Madara’s yukata over his chest. He blinked, then shifted and knelt close to Kagami, trying to fluff up his sodden wings.

Kagami clucked at him, and Madara laughed fondly, reaching to wrap an arm around the fledge before realising he was _sodden_, and he would get Kagami wet. He held back, and Giichi ferreted into his bag, finding the spelled blankets folded neat and small inside.

Kagami tugged at his yukata as Tobirama murmured something about getting it off him, then lifted his head away again. Madara shivered as the fabric peeled off his skin under Kagami’s urging hands, reaching for the nearest of the children. “Are you really all right?” he asked, voice rough and a little thick. “Are you dry?”

“We’re fine, Mada-sama!” Airi assured him, hauling open a blanket and moving around one of his arched wings.

“Are you warm enough?” Madara asked, reaching for a blanket and unfolding it to wrap around the nearest little one. “No, no, these are for you.” he protested as several of the fledges attacked him with blankets, rubbing him dry and wringing his hair out - they tugged a little painfully at it in the process, but Madara didn’t protest.

“Let the little ones help you, Madara.” Tobirama said, his side rumbling with his deep voice. Madara realised he had slouched down against it, sitting in the grass with one shoulder braced against the solid plane of dragonscale.

Madara protested quietly, but he didn’t push any of the fledges away - they were trying to help, dedicated little things, looking so serious - and shivered as he pressed himself harder against Tobirama’s side. The fledges wrapped one of the bigger blankets around him, and he tugged it close gratefully, his yukata discarded on the grass just outside of arm’s reach.

Kagami nudged at him, then tucked up inside the bend of his arm as Airi clambered into his lap. Madara shivered and hugged them both close, tutting and checking them over as best he could.

“Your hair is _hard_, Mada-sama.” Airi said, yawning and cuddling into his chest.

Madara laughed, then sneezed, turning his head away. “Yes, so I’m told.” he said lightly, suppressing a shiver at the clammy feel of it against his neck and shoulder.

“I appreciate,” Tobirama said, tucking his head under his wing with them, “you not warming yourself up under here.” Madara huffed a laugh. He wasn’t sure he could call up enough of his inner fire to get dry and warm while controlling it enough not to harm the fledges, let alone the dragon sheltering them all; not when it was so cold and wet. When _he_ was so cold and wet. He would have to put a lot of power into it to get past that, possibly too much. “Please allow me to do so.”

Madara startled, then shuddered as foreign magic rolled over his skin - sparking warmly at his back, where he was pressed close to Tobirama’s side; his own magic calling from inside him as he used it - then drew the water from Madara’s hair and feathers. It ached a little, and it left him feeling - and, he suspected, looking - as though he’d flown through a windstorm, but he felt instantly better.

Tobirama huffed a heavy breath, warm and ticklish as it filled the space beneath his wing. Madara shivered. Less miserably, this time.

Ignoring the state of his feathers, Madara angled his wings over more of the little ones as the fledges nudged closer to him. It kept them close and while Tobirama was sheltering them from the rain - far better than Madara could have, admittedly - he couldn’t fight the instinct to shelter them under his own wings. Especially not with the sound of the downpour so close.

Worn out and drained by the wet and cold - even if it were kept at bay - even the fledges who had continued to play began to settle after a time, most of them drifting closer to Madara as they did. Some of them fell asleep. Madara tucked them up in blankets and under his wings, against Tobirama’s side, snug together, as best he could.

“Foolish bird,” Tobirama said softly, “even a phoenix of your age is best kept out of weather like this; what good would you be to them sick and weak?”

“They needed looking after. I thought. . .” Madara swallowed tightly, seeing visions of the fledges sodden and miserable and chilled, eyes prickling with tears. They’d get sick, possibly worse, and they were far too young to have the strength to fight it.

“You’re good to them.” Tobirama observed, closing his wings a little, the thick, broad shield tucking lower around Madara and the fledges.

“They’re mine.” Madara said, head bowed and wings curled inwards around the nearest fledges. Airi slid a little lower down his chest, asleep, and Kagami made a whiny noise until Madara tucked him closer.

“Of course.” Tobirama said softly, and though he kept speaking Madara heard little else of his deep, rumbling voice, foggy with exhaustion and chill. Even so, he was safe and sheltered, along with all his fledges, kept close and warm under Tobirama’s wide wings.

* * *

“Ah, Tsuri-san.” Madara dipped his head to Kagami’s mother, and she smiled, bowing in return.

“Madara-sama! I was looking for you.”

Madara stopped immediately. “What do you need?” he asked her, looking her over. She looked fine, smiling brightly - Kagami’s bright smile, though his mouth was wider and his face rounder.

“Oh, I don’t need anything! We’re well.” Tsuri assured him happily. “Kagami asked me to allow him to bring a friend - something of a sensei? - to dinner tonight, and I wished to invite you, if you would like to join us.”

Madara smiled. “If you’re certain I would not be imposing. . .”

“Please join us.” Tsuri insisted, and Madara accepted with thanks.

He didn’t think about _who_ Kagami’s friend must be for a time - not until he was called to approve of Tsuri’s request to invite a stranger into their compound. He nodded and gave his allowance for it, sending the guards away quickly, and only after did it occur to him. . .

So far as he knew - and he _would_ know, with Kagami, surely - there was only one creature Kagami would call friend, let alone sensei, that would be a stranger from outside their compound. There was no way Kagami had invited a _dragon_ for dinner, though, surely.

. . .there would, Madara thought, staring across his office at the painted fan on the wall. Kagami _would_. Without a second thought.

Madara thought briefly about going to warn the guards - or Tsuri - then . . . let it go, though he kept part of his mind alert to any sounds or signs of a disturbance, in case he needed to go see to it personally.

Nothing of the kind had occurred by the time Madara was stepping out of his home to go to Tsuri and Kagami’s for dinner, however. He wondered if perhaps-

Madara took a step too soon, dropping off the engawa directly to the ground with a hard thump, still being shy of the actual steps. Tobirama - it _must_ be - looked at him with a startled expression. Madara pushed back his hair, a lock of tangled black and red-gold catching around his fingers briefly.

Tobirama-

Scarlet eyes stared at him from a sharp face, tousled silver hair falling around the angles of cheekbone and jaw - accentuated with the same blood-red stripes Madara was already accustomed to seeing on Tobirama’s face, though in vastly different shape. Sweeping horns rose from his hair, and a scaly tail curled low behind his ankles.

“Madara.” Tobirama said, and his voice was softer - smaller - than Madara was used to, but still deep and rich. “I was told you allowed. . .”

“Of course, Tobirama.” Madara said quickly, dipping his head in welcome. “You are most welcome here. Any time you would care to come.”

Tobirama’s breath caught, his tail twisting closer to his calves. “. . .most people would not so openly. . .” He gestured.

Madara smiled slightly. “You have yet to toast and eat any of my fledges,” he said dryly, “despite watching over them almost every day, now,” in this season, the fledges went to their meadow often, gleefully so, “I doubt you would choose to be a threat to us here.”

Tobirama smiled, the thin lines of his mouth softening with the expression even as it showed the tips of his sharp fangs. “Certainly not. I believe it would be best if I stayed to _this_ shape for visits, though . . . it would be nice to see the fledges when the weather or other matters do not allow for them to come to me. . .” he said wistfully.

“Perhaps.” Madara allowed, tilting his head. “I don’t believe anyone - else - quite believes the fledges about their beloved Dragon-sensei.” Not yet. They would rather be forced to face the truth of it if Tobirama came in his true shape.

Tobirama shifted, eyes widening, then flicking away. The slight tilt of his head was made obvious by the movement of his horns, and his tail flicked and curled again. He raised his gaze to meet Madara’s eyes once more. “Thank you.” he said softly, and Madara tilted his head, humming a question. “For- For allowing me to come here . . . for allowing your fledges to. . .”

Madara hummed again, smiling slightly and raising his chin. “You’ve taken care of them,” he paused, huffing, “since before I knew they came to you. _Our_ fledges are safe with you and I wouldn’t try to keep you from them.”

Tobirama kept his gaze silently for long moments. Madara shifted slightly.

Tobirama shook his head, eyes lowering for a moment before he tipped his head and caught Madara’s gaze again with a smile. Madara returned it. “We should probably make our way there before Tsuri-san wonders if there was an issue with your visit.” he suggested, and Tobirama cocked his head further.

“Tsuri-san?” Tobirama repeated, and Madara blinked, then laughed.

“Kagami’s mother.” Madara supplied. “The woman hosting you, on Kagami’s word, though she doesn’t know you.”

“. . .ah.” Tobirama nodded and took a step. “Lead on?”

Madara smiled and gestured ahead of them as he turned and began to walk, Tobirama falling in at his side. He was taller than Madara even like this, he noticed, giving a wry snort. And he could have _sworn_ he felt the feathery brush of a scaly tail against his calf. . .

“You look,” Tobirama paused, and Madara looked at him, “different?”

Madara hummed, raising his eyebrows. Tobirama lifted a hand, hesitated, then touched Madara’s hair, picking out a lock that was solely red-gold and holding it up for a moment, thumb rubbing over it. “These. Your eyes . . . your skin.”

“Oh. Of course.” Madara said as he raised his eyes from the fingers holding his hair back to meet Tobirama’s gaze again. “I haven’t been back out with the fledges since my Burning Day, I’d quite forgotten.”

Tobirama tensed even as he dropped the lock of hair.

“Burning Day? You’re- Naturally you’re all right now, of course, but. . .” Tobirama eyed him with concern.

“It _does_ happen, naturally.” Madara reminded gently. And . . . a phoenix never looked better than in the time not long past a Burning Day, eyes still lit with their soul flame, renewed body showing the new life in the almost-glow and borrowed tones of the flames they had died within and emerged from to live anew. “That was all it was. Perhaps hastened by stress.” he jested dryly.

“. . .good. I’m glad.” Tobirama said softly, and Madara looked at him. “I should never like to think of anything . . . untoward happening to you.”

Madara blinked, then smiled, brushing his shoulder against Tobirama’s arm as they walked.

**Author's Note:**

> Madara having been kicking himself for developing romantic feelings for a dragon . . . suddenly stricken by the sight of said dragon in an almost-human form (who knew that was something dragons can do?) and here in his home. . .  
Tobirama having grown quite unexpectedly fond of the Phoenix King, suddenly realising not only is he gorgeous and confident and doting of his - their? - fledges, he's . . . excellent mate material, and Tobirama _wants_ him. . .  
(Their fledges are going to be _delighted_.)
> 
> Tobirama has been teaching the fledges fire magics because they are phoenices and it is what suits them best, even if it isn't his own element; he is quite an old water dragon, and he collects (hoards) magics of all kinds.
> 
> Come say hello on [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/Kalira) or [Dreamwidth](https://kalira.dreamwidth.org) and chat ships, stories, and headcanons with me!


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